


between soft palms

by annperkinsface



Category: Luke Cage (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 12:25:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8327746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annperkinsface/pseuds/annperkinsface
Summary: His first day as a free man, she brings him coffee. The warmth radiating from her hands borders on uncomfortable in the Georgia humidity but it's worth it for the way Luke looks when she holds it out to him, like she never stops surprising him.





	

His first day as a free man, she brings him coffee. The warmth radiating from her hands borders on uncomfortable in the Georgia humidity but it's worth it for the way Luke looks when she holds it out to him, like she never stops surprising him.

"Cuban," says Claire, wickedly. "Dark and robust."

He laughs, shaking his head, and Claire smiles, her heart tripping along. It launches into her throat when he reaches out, the warmth of the coffee nothing compared to Luke's hand swallowing hers. It's the first time he's touched her since he was sent back to prison, and she's acutely aware of it as his fingers graze over her knuckles, trail a lingering path all the way down the end of her fingers. Luke licks his lips, taking the Styrofoam cup. "Ain't it just," he says, eyes hooded. He's yet to take a single sip.

Her lips twitch. She brought this on herself, really. The handle to mami's car door digs into her spine when she leans back, nodding at the drink in his hand. "We both know you're not actually going to drink that."

"I don't know," Luke says, straight-faced. "A man needs a fresh cup of symbolism in the morning." He keeps his eyes on her, raising it to his mouth and taking a deliberate sip, then grimaces deeply.

Claire laughs. It's just so Luke.

She stands on tiptoe, presses her mouth to the right side of Luke's jaw. "C'mon, Power Man," she murmurs, voice a smile. "We'll get something your delicate taste buds can handle on the way."

 

 

 

They stop at a diner. Claire sits in the booth across from him and lets Luke do most of the eating, leaning her head onto her hand as he scarfs down burger after burger.

Luke wipes stray tomato from his mouth and the corner of it tugs up when he puts the napkin down next to his empty plate and looks at her. "Foggy, huh?"

She stifles a smile. "None of that," she chides. "He's a great guy and a better lawyer."

"I might have an inkling," Luke says, wryly. "Still. _Foggy_. You just run with all sorts, don't you?"

Claire looks at him, the smile playing around his mouth, the light slanting through the window and onto his face. He's not Matt or even Jessica. He wasn't meant for a life in the shadows.

She knocks her knee into his, smiling a little. "No one like you," she says, again. Some things just don't stop being true.

 

 

 

"So where do we go from here?" Luke asks.

Claire finishes adjusting the rearview mirror, head turning to look at him. It's a little strange having him here while not under duress. But nice, mostly. "Forward is as good a direction as any," she says, carefully. "Better even."

Luke's mouth softens. His eyes stay solemn. "Always."

New York is waiting. Harlem is waiting. They could stand to wait a little more. Claire unbuckles her seatbelt to lean over the emergency brake, relishing the look on Luke's face before her eyes close and her mouth drops over his. Luke sighs into it, into her, and it's a vast improvement on their first even with the awkwardness of her position, less bitter and more sweet.

Claire sits back, opening her eyes and uncurling her fingers from Luke's hoodie. She bites her own lip as she stares at Luke's mouth, reaching out a thumb to smooth the groove over the lip she just dragged between her teeth, laughing when Luke bites at the edge of it lightly.

Luke's face turns serious. He captures her hand and brings it to his chest, holds it over his heart. "Claire," he murmurs. "Thank you."

She thinks of all the people they're going to help, all the people they've helped already. They're just getting started. The future stretches out before them, limitless in possibility.

"Always," says Claire, just as softly, and it feels a little more like love every time.


End file.
